It's Lonely at the Top
by xTimexTurnerx
Summary: There are a few things in this world that I am sure of: 1. I will be top of my class and giving the graduation speech at the end of this year. 2. I will be offered the one open Healer training position at St. Mungo's. 3. I will not let anyone, especially Scorpius Malfoy, get in the way. I was put in Slytherin for a reason, right? Scorpius/Rose
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

There's a moment in life, where you have the choice to break with what you've known or silently comply with your past. For most, a moment like this usually comes during radical adolescence rebellion, or post-graduates deciding wildly uncommon career paths.

My moment came when I was eleven.

I sat with the Hogwarts sorting hat over my ears and heard its ancient whisper in my head. _A Weasley, eh? Yes, yes you come from a rich background of Gryffindors, I can see. But do you have the courage?_

 _I can see something else in you… I can see your cunning intelligence. I can see how you will stop at nothing to be the best… a trait of the Slytherins._

I sharply inhaled, realizing for the first time, there was a distinct possibility I could end up in a different house than Gryffindor. I expected to feel fear, but I felt exalted. I would be the first in my family to step outside the norm.

Being among such huge family notoriety was scarce. Especially when your parents made up two members of the infamous trio that rid the wizarding world of the most evil wizard to exist. I would get attention for something, finally, by being placed in Slytherin.

 _Does that scare you? Making a different path than those before you? If it does, you're not meant for either house…_

'I'm not scared!' I said loudly in my thoughts. 'I can do anything!'

" _Slytherin_!" The hat exclaimed to the hall; there was a beat of silence before a triumphant whooping exploded from the table at the end of the hall.

I took the hat off my head and started walking dumbly to the table of green and silver. I kept my eyes trained on the floor, the ferocity I felt during the sorting completely halted by my new reality.

I wished more than anything I had not inherited my father's red hair at this moment; it was a blatant sign of my familial betrayal as my fellow gingers all sat in a clump at the Gryffindor table.

I had been the last student to be sorted, and I found the one open seat at the Slytherin table next to my fellow first years.

"A Weasley, eh?" The blonde boy next to me smiled, not all together unkindly.

I looked at the sureness in his blue eyes and the white blonde hair and tried to size him up.

"You've got a problem with that?" I said back gruffly, refusing to back down now from my act of defiance.

He laughed in surprise, "Not at all. Scorpius Malfoy," he said sticking his hand out. I looked at it scathingly.

"My father told me to beat you at every test," I said surely, crossing my arms and ignoring his outstretched palm.

He pulled back his palm to his side, looking at me challengingly. He deduced by now that I was not just another young girl, eager to make friends and bond with her first-year peers.

"Well may the best wizard win then, eh?" He said back, turning to marvel at the enormous amounts of food now in front of us.

"Don't worry," I said, my eyes still trained on the side of his pale neck. I could see a small Adam's apple bobbing as he drank a flask of Pumpkin juice. "She will." And with that, I turned to my own plate, not bothering to see if Scorpius had heard me or not.


	2. It's not you, it's me

**Chapter One: It's not you, it's me.**

I'm really hoping he doesn't cry.

I absolutely hate it when the guy cries. I can't possibly understand how they mustered up enough emotion to do it. I never let it go on for more than a few months, just enough to have a thorough distraction and sense of adoration.

Once things started to get a bit more, how do I say, 'real'? Yes, let's go with real. You know what I mean, you notice the way the bloke chews his toast in the morning is the most obnoxious noise in existence. Or you start making to-do lists during snogging episodes, bored by the expected movements by your chosen partner. Or, they started showing key signs of attachment: _"What are you doing for Christmas this year?"_ or _"Want to go to the next Hogsmeade visit together? In three months?"_

Things like that would put the final nail in the coffin, and prompt my typical break-up spiel.

I had kept up the same pattern of affiliation and consequential severing since my fourth year. After three solid years, I was starting to use some pretty artistic lines to create dramatic exits.

Oh, like the one I used on a poor Hufflepuff named Blake last term: " _My cousin has just contracted a rare flesh-eating disease. She really needs me to be there for her right now, I'm just so upset I can't be with anyone else."_ Not only did that make me look like a hero, but it made rumors about my self-righteous cousin, Lily, circulate around the castle for months.

Then there was the time I told a boy: _"I have decided to commit myself to a life of God. I am giving up all men for chastity."_ God decided to elicit a bit of pay back for that one, as the heart-brokened (I assume he was) lad accidentally walked in on me and some Ravenclaw in an abandoned classroom the following week.

What to say to Derek this time around? He was a fellow Slytherin, so a ridiculous lie would backfire as I had a couple of lessons with him. He wasn't a terrible bloke, honestly. He hadn't really irritated me once. I was just bored. It wasn't his fault.

I cleared my throat. "Derek," I began promptly. We were sitting at an abandoned sector of the library; I chose a place where he couldn't make a scene, the ancient librarian would probably shank him with her terrifying long black quill if he raised his voice above a whisper.

He looked sadly at me, "You're going to break up with me, aren't you?" he asked. The raven hair fell in his eyes and I was taken aback.

"Well I mean…" I started, being thrown off by the whole turn of events.

"It's all right." He said, laying a hand on my shoulder. "You're a great girl, Rose. I hope you find someone who you'll want to stay with." His constant compliments and chivalry I think may have been the reason I decided to break it off with him. I felt something almost like guilt using him for a snog when he was being so kind to me.

I was dumb struck. "Ah, yeah. Okay." He chuckled and stuck out his hand, "friends?" I was completely uncertain how to react, so I shook the hand numbly.

Derek left a kiss on the top of my forehead and gathered his stuff before exiting our table. I gathered my books to head to my favorite study spot and mulled over what had just transpired.

He called me a _great girl_. I had been called many names during a breakup, most of them ones that if I said 'round a dinner table, I would have gotten severely reprimanded, but never a _great girl_.

"Another one bites the dust, eh?" A sly voice called as I pushed through the library doors. "I saw Derek pass by," the blonde explained. I rolled my eyes and kept walking down the hallway.

Apparently I wasn't getting off that easily. "He looked, dare I say, upset. And if my calculations are correct, it's been about four months now. Time for the Weasley Axe to strike—"

"Enough!" I called, stopping and coming face to face with Scorpius. "First of all, that's not a _thing_."

"Oh contraire," he said back. "You've never dated a bloke for more than four months."

I didn't quite know how to explain my relationship with Scorpius. We were members of the same house. But we were also Prefects, on the Quidditch team and vying for the same post-graduation job. Put all of those factors together, and I spent an inordinate amount of time trying to forget how much time we spent together.

"You've dated nearly every bloke in the school, soon you're going to run out of options and all that's going to be left is little old me," he said taking a step closer.

Yes, there was also _this_ familiar aspect of our relationship to explain. Malfoy, like me, had a bit of a competitive streak in him. He would constantly hit on me, because to him I gave every bloke a chance except him. He saw me as a constant challenge.

And the reality was, he wasn't bad looking. He was tall enough, standing over my 5' 8" frame by four or five inches. His blonde hair at least wasn't slicked back any more like it used to be when we were children. He was fit enough from years of Quidditch. His nose was a bit beaky for my liking, but I had snogged far more unfortunate looking guys. He was intelligent, but not more so than me. He liked Quidditch. He was a fellow Slytherin. In theory, we were a perfect match.

"You should just surrender now," he said, tracing the side of my face with his finger. I pushed it away. That was why I would never give Scorpius a chance; he would make every moment feel like I failed. Giving into Scorpius's cheap advances would be the ultimate art of submission, and I do not submit.

"Hm, so tempting, Malfoy." I said in mock consideration. "But I think I'd rather trip down the great entrance stairs and break every bone in my body."

"Death or going out with me," he said heavily. "That's a tad dramatic, don't you think, Weasley?"

"No," I said deadpan and made to move again. Scorpius moved in the same direction. He took a look at the stack of books in my hand.

" _Advanced Healing Spells_ , huh?" He smiled.

"Yup," I said through a tight mouth.

"I read that a few months ago," he said smiling. I knew he was alluding to the Healer spot at St. Mungo's. We were both taking the same course load, and both trying to obtain the one open spot at the end of our seventh year. Which would be mine, obviously.

"Great," I said impatiently. "Is that all?" I asked. "Because I would actually like to go study now?"

"Ah, I imagine after the painful breakup you have to throw yourself into school work just to hold yourself together," he mocked.

I snorted in a very unladylike fashion. "No, it's so I can beat your arse for the top spot," I said back.

"May the best wizard win," he said, as he usually did when I made threats of taking the number one spot in the class which bounced between the two of us frequently, never staying securely in one of our hands for long.

I cocked my eyebrow. "Witch," I corrected him.

"Now, don't call yourself that, Rose. I think you're a fine person."

"Something we have in common."

He smiled at me in the way that he did when he successfully seduced other girls in school. "Indeed. 'Til next time," he said, slinking to the side and letting me pass.

"You mean Quidditch practice tonight, right?" I said back as I walked down the hall.

"That's anticlimactic!" he said back. I laughed. If nothing else, he was good for a laugh.

I decided to skip the studying for the moment and head back to the Slytherin dorms to wash up before lunch.

I cast off my large pile of books and sat on my four-poster to notice the words, _SLUTherin_ painted across my pillow.

Creative. I easily muttered a counter-curse that erased the bold writing.

Maybe Derek wasn't as nice as I gave him credit for.

*

"And will Derek be joining us for our study session?" Vivian asked as we marked our territory in the library, throwing various belongings over all the four chairs, making sure no unwanted students would try and occupy them.

I snorted in reply.

"So I take it that's done?" she asked, flopping down in the chair next to me.

"Yup," I said hastily, pulling out quills and rolls of parchment.

"And why did you break up with this one?"

"I was bored."

"Rose!" she said back annoyed. "He was nice!"

"Exactly," I explained. "Too nice."

"Please, tell me," she added, "how is one 'too' nice?"

"You know…" I started feebly.

"No I don't, explain it to me."

"He would like carry my books, and meet me after classes. Always sit next to me at meals, make posters for Quidditch matches. It was bloody obnoxious."

"So chivalrous and supportive? That's too nice?" Vivian said challengingly.

I sighed. I could get away with vague explanations for my actions with anyone else but Vivian did not put up with any bullshit. I admired her for it, and expected that her fierce determination was what landed her in the Slytherin house with me.

"Suffocating," I corrected. She didn't let her gaze break from my eyes before she softened.

"I want you to be happy," she said in a rare moment of compassion.

"You're always single!" I exclaimed, taking her concern and promptly ignoring it, what I do best.

"By choice," she said calmly. "You get in something for the purpose of being the one to control when it ends, never even thinking of giving the guy an actual chance."

"That's not true," I deflected easily.

"Oh yeah?" she asked. I didn't like the look in her dark eyes.

"Yup, I really want something to work out," I feigned.

"Okay, then you won't have a problem with a bit of a proposition?" she said, straightening her short figure as much as possible.

My brain perked up; 'proposition' was a synonym for challenge or bet. I could win that. "Of course not," I said, carefully keeping the edge out of my voice.

"If you stay with a guy, and give it a real shot, for over four months, I will never bother you about this again," she promised.

"What if I don't find one and then we graduate?" I asked, pointing out this flaw.

"What, is our plan to get a flat together off?" she asked, crossing her arms. "It can go past graduation."

"Fine, fine." I mumbled. I knew there was no way I would be able to afford a flat on my own, and no one else would ever put up with me. Plus, I hated people. Vivian was the only exception.

"You can't date another guy 'til you find one you're genuinely interested in," she stipulated.

"What about snog?" I asked. Vivian glared at me.

"What? I have needs," I said.

"No snogging."

I opened my mouth to protest, "Unless you don't think you can do it…"

Ugh, she got me and she knew it. While Vivian never bothering me about this ever again was a worthy prize, I knew deep down what this was really about for me. Vivian saw me as some emotionally wounded girl who tried to prove her worth through dating every bloke in Hogwarts; she thought I had a weakness.

I hated normal people thinking I had a weakness, let alone my best friend. I was going to prove her wrong.

"I can do it." _I can do anything._ I thought back to the little eleven-year-old girl with the frizzy orange hair sitting on the stool with the Sorting hat covering her eyes.

Vivian smirked, "shake?" And we shook on it.

*

I was the first one at Quidditch practice, naturally. I liked to change in silence. I ran my fingers down my locker, thinking about how cold the metal was. Countless guys had called me cold. Was I like this locker? This unyielding, obstinate surface?

"Were you here early trying to catch me alone?" the familiar voice called. I rolled my eyes and turned to Scorpius lounging against the locker room entrance.

"That's hilarious," I said flatly, turning back to my space.

"Cummon, really…" he trailed off, sitting on the bench next to my locker.

"Are you going for flat out rejection twice in one day, Malfoy?" I scoffed. "That seems beneath you. I'm sure some other girl in this school would be stupid enough to go on a date with you." I offered in mock sympathy.

"I have a serious problem," he said melodramatically.

"You have many," I countered, sitting on the bench temporarily humoring him.

"I've become bored with Hogwarts girls," he admitted, as if a dirty secret.

"Last time I checked, I attend Hogwarts."

"You're not like the other girls," he said. "You have a brain, and you play Quidditch. Plus you don't seem to get all clingy and you swear like a bloke, kinda act like one really—"

"Wow, color me flattered." I jeered.

"Oh piss off, you know what I mean." He covered.

I did. It was the same thing I had been hearing since I was sorted in Slytherin and quickly turned away from my female peers, save Vivian. We had bonded over a mutual dislike of our other dorm mates.

 _A blonde dorm mate, Cynthia Pucey, had just finished reading the latest Witch Weekley, and gasping at every bit of celebrity gossip. Which, being a direct descendant of two-thirds of the Golden Trio, often involved members of my family. She was obsessed with my Uncle Harry (ew) and asked me about the most tedious details of his life._

 _I had finally lost it when she asked, "What brand of ink does he buy?"_

 _"Sod off will you?" I spat out. She looked gob smacked. "You're absolutely off your rocker. You know that right? He's a person you twit. Not some subject to study. And knowing what toothpaste he brushes with or his favorite dessert is completely useless!" The girl had promptly left, followed by the two others._

 _"She was getting on my nerves," the girl on the bed to my left murmured, so quietly I thought I had almost imagined it. She was small for our age, short with her shiny black hair and slight Asian features._

 _"She's probably going to hate me for the next seven years," I said, feeling no loss._

 _"Do you care?" I read her plaque; Vivian Li._

 _"No," I responded. She cracked a grin._

 _"Good," and just like that we had an unspoken friendship. Each of us comfortably sat with the notion that neither of us were like "other girls" and we were completely okay with it._

I heard the phrase again when I joined the Quidditch team my third year; the first girl on the Slytherin team in memory, most said.

Then when I started dating and discarding in fourth year, my teammates said I acted like a bloke.

Interestingly, as I got older "acting like one of the boys" quickly turned into "bitch."

"I'm pretty sure because I'm a girl, I act like a girl," I spat, and Scorpius floundered, which was quite enjoyable.

"Of course you do!" He ran a hair through his messy hair. "I… Well…"

"You've got nothing, huh?" I asked sympathetically.

"Really knocked me off my stride with that," he muttered.

"Try again next time," I said, a bemused smile gracing my face.

"Same time next week?" he joked and I laughed. It was an odd acquaintance we had, but at least it was constant.

The rest of the team filed in and I gave Scorpius a punch to the shoulder before starting to stretch.

I was a Keeper, taking after my dad. But, you know, better. Uncle Harry told me in confidence my mother had "helped" him getting on the Quidditch team back in the day, which made me fairly confident my skill surpassed his.

I was working on some more flashy saving techniques, and by the end of practice, our captain, Terence Higgs Jr., was quite pleased with me.

So pleased, that he asked me on a date.

Merlin, I was single as of THIS MORNING. This. Bloody. Morning. Did news travel the castle that fast?

Or just because I dated a fair amount of blokes in my time, did that mean that guys thought I would date anyone? They're all starkers.

I rejected him, thinking back to my chat with Vivian. He wasn't the most attractive guy, but was a great Seeker and Captain. Usually a laugh too, maybe I could have given him a chance. But alas, as of this morning "giving a guy a chance" (my usual motto) was no longer enough. I had to "feel" something… or convince Vivian I did at least.

"See, everyone knows you're a girl," Scorpius whispered at me, heading into to the changing room.

Oh good, so glad everyone knew _that_ instead of my grades or Quidditch talent. Marvelous.


	3. I'll chew you up and spit you out

**Chapter Two: I'll chew you up and spit you out.**

"Ah yes, today we will be concocting the Wiggenweld Potion! Can anyone inform the class of its claim to fame?" Professor Slughorn asked expectantly.

Of course I knew it's 'claim to fame.' I knew the answer to most questions in class, but that didn't mean I had to go waving my hand about like a baboon.

Answering questions in class let people know I was a threat. I'm personally much more intimidated by what I don't know than what I do. So I liked to steal the top marks in class like a creature in the dark.

I was surprised when Vivian raised her hand, as we usually adopted similar attitudes toward class participation. "A rich wizard used it on a muggle princess who had been given Draught of the Living Death. He kissed her with it on his lips and woke her up. It became a muggle legend called 'Sleeping Beauty."

I frequently forgot about Vivian's expansive muggle knowledge. She was a half-blood, like me. Her dad was a muggle, and her mum was a witch. But I guess because of what her mum, Cho, went through in the War she kept magic a secret until Vivian had gotten her letter to Hogwarts; a shock for Vivian and her dad.

Slughorn looked like he would nearly pee himself with delight, "Very good Miss Li! Five points to Slytherin!"

"Using Wiggenweld as chapstick? Think I'll stick to the more traditional," I heard Scorpius mutter to his mate behind me. I rolled my eyes.

"Right, so you and a partner will brew up the Wiggenweld, and administer your last week's Draught of the Living Death to one and then the anecdote!"

"What if our potions are messed up and one of us is stuck sleeping?" Scorpius's mate, whose name never stuck with me, called out.

"Oh, I'm not that lucky," I said looking at Scorpius.

"Then you get poor marks!" Slughorn said cheerfully. The class was silent. "That was a joke, students. I have checked the Draughts and will check the anecdote before administered, now off you go!"

Vivian smiled at me and offered to get the ingredients now written on the board. We had a system; she would get the ingredients and read the instructions to me and I would do everything else. She never complained; she was only in Potions because I was and knew I needed top marks.

The potion was less complicated than the Draught of the Living Death. I quickly prepared the various components and happily started combining. Potions was my favorite subject; I loved the certainty of it. No matter what, if I followed the instructions they would yield the desired result. I appreciated its solidified nature.

Classes with charms or spells depended on concentration and intent; Potions was less mentally taxing.

I was in my own world, peacefully stirring and inhaling the strangely floral scent of the potion, when I was ripped from my happy place.

"Well done Mr. Malfoy!" I heard Slughorn call, holding up the pale pink potion to the window to examine it. I turned around to see his mate slumped over the desk, clearly already under the Draught of Living Death. "You may administer the anecdote to Mr. Smith."

Smith? No wonder I couldn't remember his name. He was a pale git and walked with his hands shoved in his pockets. His white skin now was splayed all over the table in the most unattractive way possible.

Scorpius winked at me as he walked to Whatshisname Smith and put the stopper to his mouth.

"Sure you don't want to kiss it onto him? Much more dramatic," I sneered.

"Sucks to finish second, doesn't it?" he goaded, successfully waking up the bloke. Vivian watched the interaction with interest, staying silent. I groaned and finally brought my vial to Slughorn. He told me it was fine and I woke Vivian up easily.

What was not fine was Scorpius and how he was a shred better than me at Potions. I needed to be more focused.

As we packed our bags away at the end of the lesson, Vivian motioned for me to hang back. "Have you ever thought about Scorpius?" she whispered.

"I think about ways to kill him daily—"

"No, no. As a guy. A guy to date," she said carefully. I snorted an ugly, unladylike snort.

"You think Scorpius Malfoy is the key to my happiness?"

"I don't know! You're yourself around him. Usually you act girly and ridiculous around the random blokes you date. You challenge him. And you both have the bloody same interests! Healing, Quidditch, on paper you're perfect! Maybe if you stopped growling at him for a minute, you would like him!" I looked at Vivian's unusually earnest face and knew she wasn't joking.

"He sees me as a prize, Viv," I sighed.

"You are a prize!"

"I'm a human!" I exclaimed. "It's just some sick competitive drive in him that makes him hit on me," I finished.

"Jeez, who does that remind me of?" she asked sarcastically, stroking her chin.

I thought about the situation for a minute. Vivian had this feeling I was a weak mouse behind the red lions mane. I wanted to prove her wrong.

Scorpius, as is with most blokes, was at least sexually attracted to me. And Scorpius was my threat for the Healer job and top spot.

Nothing distracted teenage boys more than teenage girls.

Can I have my cake and eat it too?

I put on my best innocent expression, "If he asks me out again, I'll say yes."

Vivian lit up. "I think this could be good! But it doesn't have to be for the bet. If you don't like him you don't have to stick with it for four months."

"We'll we are so similar," I smiled. Ugh. I'm similar to Malfoy. Malfoy who slicked his hair back for five years.

"You are," Viv said, clearly impressed with her match making abilities. "Lunch?" she asked, swinging her black bag over her shoulder.

"Yup," I said, charging out the door not waiting for Viv to follow.

I looked at my reflection critically. Did Malfoy like my hair curly or straight? Should I put on sultry makeup or stay natural? V-neck shirt that could show cleavage, or covered up and tight to hint at what's underneath?

I examined myself like an interior designer would look at paint or fabric swatches. What combination would please the client?

I settled on a more natural look with the V-neck. He said he liked that I wasn't girly, so I stayed away from make-up and hair charms.

I met him in the Common room at sharply ten o'clock to do our weekly round duty. "Weasley," he nodded, his eyes trailing lazily over my body.

"Scorpius."

"First name? I must have been a very good boy," he nodded his eyebrows suggestively.

"Let's get on with it, shall we?" I said, ignoring his basic sexual remark. He would have to do better, much better.

The first few moments passed silently. We quickly caught a Ravenclaw couple snogging in a classroom and sent them back to their common room. Where, theoretically, they could also snog. Seemed like a flawed system to me.

"Shocked I haven't caught you before," I commented to Malfoy, making sure to cross my arms to create a distracting sight.

"Caught me what?" Malfoy said, eyes trained on my chest.

"Well not staring at my chest like you're doing now," I countered and his eyes snapped up. To his credit, his ears got a bit red. "I meant snogging in a classroom." I said, starting to walk again, adding ample hip-swishing.

"Getting caught is for novices," he said, picking up the pace to walk at my side.

"I agree," I commented, save that one bit of bad karma with the ex who believed I was a nun, no one had ever walked in on me. I turned suddenly and backed him into the wall. I leaned into his ear, ignoring his shocked expression, "but the threat makes it _dangerous_ ," I said, letting my whisper linger.

I pulled back and looked him square in the eye, "And dangerous is fun." I let him go and kept walking like nothing happened.

"What the bloody hell was that?" his strangled voice cried, struggling once again to catch up.

I laughed darkly, "A test."

"A test?"

"Don't worry you didn't pass. I would chew you up and spit you out." I commented lightly.

"Care to explain?"

"Ah, of course. Forgot about you being slow."

He glared.

"You said you were bored with Hogwarts girls," I said sweetly and then dropped my voice like I was telling a secret, "I'm bored of Hogwarts boys. I wanted to see if you were different. If you were actually a man. But I scared you with just a little bark."

Scorpius was looking at me intently as we stood in the middle of an abandoned corridor. "And you can believe my bite," I paused, letting my eyes drift obviously to his mouth. His eyes widened; it was pathetic how predictable his reaction was, "is much worse than my bark."

I turned on my heels like something had been decided and walked away, trying to keep the smile off my face.

5…4…3…2…1…

"Rose!" he called. I had to bite back a laugh and compose myself before turning back around to meet him.

"Let me prove it," he demanded. "One date."

"Why should I do that?" I asked coyly.

He grabbed my arms and pulled me close. I could see his eyes were more interesting than the non-descript hazel I had always cast them off as. The flecks of gold among the green shouldered like Felix Felicis. Hopefully, I would make him my own good luck charm.

"Because, you said you would chew me up and spit me out," he dropped his voice so it was gravelly. I could tell this was his "sexy" voice and to me it sounded more like he chain smoked since he was ten. "I disagree."

"How refreshing," I said, sounding bored.

"I think the taste I would leave in your mouth," he looked down on it, "would be too good to spit out." Okay, that was smooth. That was Malfoy pulling out the big guns, and my body applauded him by erupting in goose bumps on the back of my neck.

"One date?" I asked, pulling him out of the trance he seemed locked in.

"One date," he admitted.

"Fine," I said, snapping into business. I pulled my arms out of his reach; his part in this was done. "Rules," I started.

Malfoy smirked, "Go on."

"If I hear you calling me 'your girlfriend' to anyone, living or dead, I'll hex you so deeply you won't be able to ever have children."

"Oh you sure know how to sweet talk a man," he laughed.

"You're planning the date, I have enough to do," I listed.

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

"And if you try and make me set foot in Madame Pudifoot's I will leave and burn your broomstick. Understand?"

"Wow, this date comes with a lot of chances for my destruction." _You have no idea._

"Dangerous is fun," I repeated, winking.

If someone were looking on, they would have seen a desperate boy pleading for a date. Scorpius asked me, I only poked the sleeping bear.

Step One: Let them think it was _all_ their idea.


	4. Who says you can't mix work and play?

**Chapter Three: Who says you can't mix work and play?**

Scorpius acted like nothing happened all week during classes, patrol, and multiple Quidditch practices. Until the end of potions yesterday when he said, "Meet you in the common room tomorrow, six o'clock," on his way out the door.

"What if I don't show?" I shot back to his retreating form.

"Dress is casual!" he yelled without looking back.

Although I demanded him to plan the date in a moment of dominance, I hated not knowing what was happening. Surprises were wasted on me; I detested the unexpected.

The hardest preparation for the date was my mentality. I knew I had to spend the night paying attention and taking mental notes on possible weaknesses, strengths and traits. I needed to know the enemy to defeat him.

"Can I just add a little shimmer eye shadow?" Vivian pleaded. Scratch that, the hardest preparation for my date was defending my face from a Vivian makeover. From the moment she learned I was going on a date with Scorpius until now, one hour before said date, she had been obsessed with all aspects of the event. _Where were we going? How much did I like him? What was I going to wear? Did I think it was going to work out, or was I more of the crazy owl spinster type?_ Apparently I had no medium. Either I marry Scorpius or start subscribing to _Owls Monthly_.

I was glad Vivian had grown into herself and was more vocal and outgoing than the shy girl I had befriended first year, but enough was enough.

"No!" I exclaimed, swatting the palette out of her threatening hand. I was not going to be seen _trying_ with Scorpius Malfoy. "He has seen me sweaty from Quidditch practice, exhausted during patrols and insane during OWLs. If none of those looks scared him off, I think I can skip the gold eye shadow."

Vivian looked temporarily outraged but then instantly smiled, "stick to who you are! I like it!" She mercifully relented all makeup attempts.

At 6:02 I said goodbye to Vivian and she promised to wait up. I crossed Cynthia and her cronies as they walked up the stairs from dinner. They probably ate some lettuce. They rolled their eyes at my jeans, v-neck and flats as their heels echoed on the stone. Like I needed to stand over six feet tall by strapping pain machines to my feet; 5'8" was tall enough.

Scorpius was sitting by the fire, and the glow danced off his light blond hair. He smiled, "Ready?"

I clutched my folded cloak in my arms, "I suppose so." He led me out the portrait hole. It wasn't until we were walking side by side I realized Scorpius was holding a black covered basket. I eyed it wearily.

"So what does this date entail?" I asked.

"You're definitely going to need that," he said, pointing with his free hand to my cloak. He had already donned his, hiding the black form-fitting sweater and darker jeans.

I threw the garment around my shoulders. "Got it. Next?" I asked impatiently.

Scorpius laughed, "Not one for suspense, eh?"

"You've known me since I was eleven," I countered.

"Fair." We were silent until reaching the large doors. He pushed one open and looked around before leading me to the grounds. The late November air hit me and I was glad for my extra layer.

I immediately expected to be lead to one of the typical cliché Hogwarts picnic spots: the Black Lake tree ( _Harry Potter proposed to Ginny here!_ —I'm supposed to feel romantic thinking about my uncle?), the Quidditch pitch ( _Look at the stars!_ —You know where else I can look at the stars? Literally anywhere), or Hagrid's garden which was built on the ashes of his burned house ( _The flowers are beautiful!_ —Yeah and if you pay attention for two seconds in Herbology you would know that orange one you're sniffing bites, so watcher).

But, I was pleasantly surprised when he started to lead me around the back of the castle. _So Malfoy had a creative bone in his body_ , mentally noted. Besides the Herbology greenhouses, I did not spent time around the back of the school.

We walked on for a while before coming to a hill that I had never noticed before. The Forbidden Forest rested on either side, and trees guarded its flank, making the landmark easy to pass over when scanning the skyline. We reached the top in a few minutes and the sight took my breath away. The sun was setting on the Black Lake and casting magnificent colors every which way. I could see all the way across to the far off mountains and I felt on top of the world.

I composed myself and saw Scorpius smirking while staring at me. "It's nice," I admitted, crossing my arms.

"Well, while you were looking at the 'nice' sunset, I set up food if you're hungry." He gestured to the green blanket on the ground and had a spread fit for my rumbling stomach.

"So is cooking a hobby?" I asked as I stacked my plate with pasta, ready to add the interest to my database.

"Ha, no. More like a house elf fancies me and was willing to help out," he said, turning red about the ears. _Doesn't cook. Frequently visits the kitchens,_ I wrote on my mental notepad.

"So, how many girls have seen this spot," I asked coyly.

"Honest answer?" he asked, putting down his plate and looking at me with narrowed eyes.

"Honesty is best," _for me._

"You're the first," he said, letting the truth hang in the air between us. Not what I was expecting, for sure. But could I work with it? Absolutely. Scorpius must have been more than joking around with me the past couple years. He was already in this far deeper than I was, which would only work to my advantage.

"I like to come up here to study, or think." He explained. He saw my skeptical eyebrow raise, "I do that sometimes!" he defended and I laughed.

Once we finished eating, Scorpius pulled out a bottle of sherry. "Trying to get me drunk, Scorpius?"

"Just thought we're both busy and could use a drink," he said, pouring us each a glass.

Truthfully, I only drank once and it was my seventeenth birthday over the summer. It ended with me waking up on the floor of my older cousin's apartment and a dragon of a hangover. I hadn't cared for the experience one bit.

But, I wasn't going to give him any piece of me to work with. As I picked up the glass, he lit a magical fire. _Good at fires, conjuring. Watch for in Transfiguration lessons._

I sipped through tight lips while Scorpius took long swigs. Clearly he was accustomed to the bitter taste of alcohol. _Drinks… too much? Casually?_

As he poured himself another glass, I kept my eye on it to re-fill as soon as possible. A drunk Scorpius would be an asset for data collecting.

"How did you get this?" I asked suddenly, although we were both of age, Hogwarts students were not permitted to keep alcohol in the dormitories.

"Going to report me, Prefect Weasley?" he asked.

"Just curious, Prefect Malfoy," I countered. "We'd be in trouble if we were caught," I added.

"Dangerous is fun," he repeated leaning close to me. I could smell the wine on his breath.

"Why don't you bring any other girls up here, Scorpius?" I asked, moving so I was resting my head against his shoulder. Establishing contact makes blokes more likely to open up.

"No one has been good enough," he whispered, and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. Other girls would melt, I know. But the only way that was happening is if I tripped and landed in his self-contained fire.

"And what makes me good enough?" I whispered in his ear, strategically linking my fingers in his; needed a bit of moisturizer. Why did blokes think lotion was only for girls? Did they think we wanted to rub against their dry, dragon-hide skin?

"If I knew, I would tell you. I just know you're different than every other girl I've met, and it's a good thing." I looked up and saw he was staring at my profile, lit by the enchanted flames.

He's been laying it on thick; I needed to give him something.

"I'm starting to think you're different too," I smiled, flashing my teeth. "And it's good."

Now for those of you playing along at home, this is when in the romance movie the boy would lean down and gently kiss the girl in front of the fire on the magical, hidden hill and they would take the first step to falling in love.

But, as I, Rose Weasley, was on this date to gather intel and woo the male for the sole purpose of crushing him academically and professionally and Scorpius Malfoy was, well, Scorpius Malfoy, that wasn't happening.

As I turned to lay the best kiss of his life on him (let's be real here), my foot kicked my still nearly full wine glass into the fire ball. Which, if you've ever seen, fire and alcohol makes more fire. And more fire catches the picnic blanket on fire. "Aguamenti!" I yelled quickly, extinguishing the flames.

"If you didn't like the date, just say so Weasley, don't set me on fire!" Scorpius joked. I played off the uncharacteristically clumsy moment quite gracefully, if I do say so myself.

We packed up the picnic and walked hand and hand back to the dungeons. As we got closer to the common room entrance, the awkward almost-goodnight-what-do-I-do tension was thick between the two of us.

My personal plan was to plant the best kiss of his life on his smug little face, as I previously said, but that was it. A kiss, _leave them wanting more_ ; that was Step Two. A bee wouldn't come back to a dried-up honey hive. That was something my mum's grandma said, she was quite old. But you get the picture.

We finally reached the good night spot, right by the common room entrance in the dungeons. Even thought the dungeons were chilly, I had discarded my cloak somewhere along the way. I wanted to leave my body in his mind for the last image Scorpius would see of me.

"I want to try something different," Scorpius said nervously. Yes, the ridiculous git looked nervous. I was a human, not a giant squid.

"I'm listening," I said, taking a step closer to him.

"I know we've both dated our fair share of people," _that_ was an understatement. If we combined our dating pool we could create five Quidditch teams. And possibly have some left over to sit in the stands and cheer them on.

"Like I said before, I think this is different," he got quieter. Ugh, the gravelly smoker/ husky voice was coming back. I tried to hide my distaste.

"I think you get bored of guys like I get bored of girls. So, I need to keep you intrigued." Scorpius said slowly. Little did he know, he was the one guy that could bore me to tears and I would keep dating him if it meant my grades were number one and that job was mine.

He wasn't stupid. He might not have grasped step one, but he was definitely on to step two; he wanted to leave me wanting more.

"How do you plan to do that?"

He ran his finger from my collarbone to the tip of my fingers, slowly. Incredibly slowly. He was good at the 'intense moment' thing, I'll give him that. "I could snog you right now," his eyes were locked on his lingering finger laced in mine. He pulled back suddenly, "But then I'd be like all the others."

He was right. I had never walked away from a date without sealing the deal. The fact that he thought or examined my dating history was uncomfortable to me.

"I don't want to be like the others, so… if you agree you want this too, I'll kiss you on our third date."

Clearly Malfoy had gotten ahold of some _Witch Weekly_ book of how to be a gentleman or something equally dense and decided that was the way to catch me. Admirable, but I wanted to laugh.

Instead, I decided my new goal in this little tryst would be to make him break his gentleman rule. I would go out with him again, and he'll kiss me at the end of our _second_ date.

"Is three your lucky number?" I smiled.

"You never know. Only if you say yes to another date," he said, and looked nervous, much unlike the boy who demanded our first date a week ago in a deserted hallway. _He has a vulnerable side._

"Yes," I said quietly, smirking. He smiled and grabbed my hand, kissing it lightly.

I laughed; he was always good for that. "That's a kiss!" I pointed out.

"No, no. That was a preview." I rolled my eyes.

"I feel like we're in the 1800s," I said.

He smiled, "Much too casual dress for that. Goodnight m'lady." He pushed open the door and led me to the girl's dormitory stairs. He bowed as I made my way up and I turned around to stick my tongue out at him. Who says you can't mix work and play?

I kept the silly look on my face so I could pass as a dewy-eyed girl to Vivian. This plan was going to take a lot of effort. _It'll be worth it_ , I thought before pushing open the door to my dormitory.


End file.
